


if i could steal the world, i'd start with you

by Atheleia



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: A very lighthearted AU, M/M, Rivals, Thief!Alfred, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27321046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atheleia/pseuds/Atheleia
Summary: All Alfred Jones wanted to do was rob Gilbert Beilschmidt and make a couple hundred thousand dollars. Everything else that happens is not his fault.
Relationships: America & Canada (Hetalia), America & England (Hetalia), America/Prussia (Hetalia), England & Prussia (Hetalia), Germany & Prussia (Hetalia)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	1. The Safe

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based off a comic strip that Mieudiary (https://mieudiary.tumblr.com/) posted a long time ago. I scoured their Tumblr and DeviantArt to link the comic strip, but it appears to have been taken down.
> 
> This chapter is not explicit or sexual, minus some very thirsty thoughts from our favorite American. Future chapters may be. Still deciding how much I'd like to write.

The man just wouldn’t leave the damn files alone.

Alfred Jones sighed as he stood in front of the house door. He really would have preferred to steal the information while the man was away. A safe wasn’t that hard to crack, not with Alfred’s skills at least, and worst come to worst, Alfred could have just stolen the safe itself. Hacking into the alarm system also hadn’t proven a significant issue the other day when he and Matthew had done all the prep work. But the man just refused to leave the damn files at all. He was literally always in the house, just lounging around like some psychopath. Didn’t the man have any friends? Or any life?

So it had come to this. Matthew had already hacked the biometric system, so Alfred busied himself with picking the physical lock on the target’s door. Matthew had thought this was a bad idea, to sneak in while the man was in the shower, but Alfred was confident in his abilities. And also, perhaps just as importantly, he was impatient. Matthew was monitoring the cameras to give Alfred a heads up in case anything happened before he was able to retrieve the files. Even now, he could sense his twin’s anxiety through the comms, but Alfred knew it would work out. They’d been tracking the package for a few weeks now, and this was their last chance to get their hands on it before the next handoff. Alfred knew exactly where to find the safe, and if all went well, he should be in and out within ten minutes.

“Target just turned on the water. You have fifteen minutes.”

With that confirmation, Alfred opened the door and slipped into the house. He glanced around him to gather his surroundings before sneaking up the stairs. The house was more beautiful than it had seemed from the security cameras and surveillance footage he and Matthew had gathered. A pristine, modern, cosmopolitan house. Sort of like the one in Parasite, actually. A far cry from the tiny apartment he and Matthew lived in, for sure. It screamed wealth and luxury and dirty money.

If only Alfred had opted for the more lucrative side of illegal business.

As he made his way the floating chrome staircase to the second landing, Alfred could hear the water running from the bathroom. Perfect. The safe was located in the man’s study and Alfred would be able to hear when he left the shower.

It was almost laughably easy. Alfred and Matthew had pored over the specs of the safe for the past week and it shouldn’t take much effort to hack into at all. Alfred ducked into the study quietly. He contemplated closing the door behind himself, but Alfred would need to make a quick getaway and there were no other exits from the study. He’d simply have to chance it.

There it was, the safe. Another combined electric and physical lock. It was a bit annoying that Alfred couldn’t just hook up his code and blitz out of there, but he should have plenty of time. Alfred checked his watch. Ten minutes. Good, he was still on track.

“Any movement?” Alfred said. His eyes scanned the bookcase around him, more out of boredom than anything else. He’d seen the study before on the desktop monitors, but this time he could read the actual titles on the book spines. It seemed like their target was awfully fond of history and historical fiction.

“No,” came Matthew’s reply a moment later. “But I don’t have eyes in the bathroom, so make sure you’re keeping an ear out for when the water turns off. I’ll only know when he enters the hallway.”

Alfred gave a quick nod to the room’s camera, where he knew Matthew would be watching, before going immediately to work. First, he attached the password cracker to the safe. As the numbers began immediately dialing, Alfred slipped the first pick in. He would have to time things carefully, since the safe needed both mechanisms to complete within the same timeframe. Alfred wasn’t too concerned though. It would only take about three minutes for the password cracker to work, and Alfred had trained enough times on the safe Matthew had purchased for practice to know he could get the physical aspect down in time.

Alfred worked in silence, still keeping an ear out for the water in the bathroom. So far everything seemed good. He checked his watch. Eight minutes. The password cracker only needed another minute to finish, and then Alfred could hightail out of there.

Then it all went wrong.

There was a burst of static from Alfred’s comm device and he yanked it out, wincing in pain before his eyes widened. “Mattie?” Alfred hissed.

Suddenly, something hard whipped Alfred in the face. Alfred yelped in pain as he fell to the side, glasses knocked to the ground. He attempted to scramble to his feet when the distinct click of a gun froze him in place.

“Well, well. Looks like I found a little mouse scurrying around.”

Alfred looked up to see Gilbert Beilschmidt in front of him, looking entirely unamused. His mouth was set in a cold, hard line, his red eyes narrowed and intimidating. Alfred’s mind spun at a thousand miles per second. He could still hear the shower going, which meant Beilschmidt must have left it running. How had he known he’d find Alfred here? Alfred and Matthew should have been the only ones with camera access.

Beilschmidt’s hair was still wet, which meant he hadn’t even taken the time to dry off. Actually, he hadn’t taken the time at all. Alfred’s gaze lowered from his face to find that the man was standing naked in front of him.

The sight was unexpected and threw Alfred off his game. In spite of himself and the gun pointed at him, Alfred’s eyes wandered a little lower. It wasn’t his fault, alright? It had been a while after all, and Alfred couldn’t help himself. Beilschmidt’s body looked almost sculpted between his sharp collarbone and toned abs. Not to mention the fact that he was wet all over. Alfred’s eyes traced down the man’s hips and…

“You’re blushing, thief.”

Oh. Right. Alfred tried to calm the heat in his cheeks as he attempted a smile and raised his hands in surrender, slowly getting to his feet. “I think this is all a big misunderstanding,” Alfred said, letting a small drawl slip into his voice.

“Oh? Took a wrong turn and ended up in my study, did you?” Beilschmidt frowned, finger itching on the gun’s trigger.

“Now, now…wouldn’t want to get blood on the carpet, would we? It’d be unfortunate to ruin such a beautiful evening.” Alfred’s eyes watched the man carefully. It wasn’t possible for him to actually dodge a bullet once the trigger was pulled, but if he could get the drop on Beilschmidt, he might be able to startle the man into dropping his gun. That or get away with a non-critical bullet wound. It would still suck, but if Alfred could get in contact with Matthew, his brother could drag him out of this house and to a doctor.

What should he do? Alfred wondered if Mattie was okay. He certainly hoped so. The static was worrying but didn’t necessarily mean Matthew had been caught. It was possible that Gilbert had run digital interference instead.

This was really not good. Maybe Matthew could launch some kind of distraction for Alfred to get away. Alfred thought about the gun in his jacket. Would it be possible to get access to it without having his hand shot off? Probably not. But he had to at least try. Charm would only get him so far.

“It would also be unfortunate if you were to make off with my safe. Why are you here?”

A faint click sounded from the ground behind him and the safe opened. Before Beilschmidt had a chance to react, Alfred slammed his heel down on the password cracker, shattering the device into pieces. Not exactly subtle, but better than having the technology fall into rival hands.

Alfred smiled brilliantly at Beilschmidt as the man’s eyes darted towards the ground. “Just sightseeing.”

Beilschmidt glared and pressed the barrel of his gun under Alfred’s chin. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” Beilschmidt warned. With his other hand, the man began to search him.

First the earpiece was discarded, then the man started patting down Alfred’s jacket. Alfred stood still, the metal of the gun uncomfortable against his skin. “Shouldn’t you at least ask me to dinner first?” he taunted as Beilschmidt’s hand ran down his chest.

Even as he said the words, Alfred’s heart sank. Beilschmidt pulled the gun from inside Alfred’s jacket and gave a cluck of disapproval. “I’m not sure you’re first date material, Herr Thief. Though I can’t say this is the first time my dates have come armed.”

“Maybe I’m just happy to see you.” Alfred’s words brought a surprising chuckle out of Beilschmidt and the gun eased away from his chin.

Beilschmidt gestured towards a nearby chair. “Have a seat and we can discuss what you’re really here for.” There was a lightness to the man’s voice, but Alfred could tell by the glint in his eyes (and, well, the gun in his hands) that Beilschmidt would not tolerate any deviation from his demands. After a moment, Alfred took a seat as requested. It wasn't as if he had much choice. Any attempt to run would simply get him shot.

From somewhere in the room, Beilschmidt produced a thing of rope and tied him to the chair. Rope in the study and no social life? Beilschmidt was definitely into some kinky shit. And Alfred really needed to get laid. Reflexively, Alfred tested his bonds, disappointed but unsurprised to find that they held securely.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t try anything,” Beilschmidt warned. “There are eyes everywhere.”

“Get me a drink while you’re at it,” Alfred said. He thought he saw a flash of amusement in Beilschmidt’s eyes as the man left the room, but it might have been imagined.

This really was going quite poorly. Alfred shifted in the chair uncomfortably, trying to loosen the ropes around him to no avail. He gritted his teeth before twisting his wrist to shimmy out a knife he kept in his sleeve. Alfred began painstakingly sawing at the rope, a feat made particularly difficult by the angle. He winced as the blade came into contact with his wrist but kept going at the task.

Beilschmidt returned too soon, no longer dripping wet but just as naked as ever. Now he had a gun strapped to his thigh in addition to the one in his hand, along with a canvas bag. Not just any gun, Alfred’s gun. Alfred stared at him sourly. Beilschmidt was definitely taunting him and it was wholly unfair.

He focused instead on the messenger bag. What horrors could Beilschmidt possibly have in store? Alfred hadn't pegged Beilschmidt as a man interested in torture, but he supposed at some point most people became well-versed in that art. Alfred had never really been able to stomach it, and his position as a thief and a hacker never really forced him to. That was probably why he and Matthew had never found much success outside of thievery. You had to grow up with a certain tolerance for the work, or have it beaten into you. Maybe if Alfred had grown up truly alone, he might have turned down that path, but Matthew had at least always kept him grounded, sane.

“Is the gun really necessary?” Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought we were all friends here.”

“And I thought we were done lying to each other, but it appears not.” Beilschmidt walked behind him, gun ghosting the back of Alfred’s neck. “Drop the blade.”

Reluctantly, Alfred let go of his knife. Well now he was really fucked. How had Beilschmidt found out so soon? Alfred thought he'd been good at concealing the weapon.

To his surprise, Beilschmidt began to undo the ropes around Alfred. “One wrong move and I shoot to kill,” Beilschmidt said. With that, the gun retracted from Alfred’s neck and Beilschmidt took a seat across from Alfred. “So. Why are you here?”

Alfred rubbed his wrists ruefully, wishing desperately that he had his gun and could hightail out of here. “I already told you, I’m here in the city to admire the sights. It really is quite beautiful in the summer.”

“Funny, I never thought my home made the tour books.” The man glared at him. “Who do you work for?”

“You’re so impatient! Let’s get to know each other.” Alfred shot the man his most winning smile. Not that he expected much use to come of it, but who knew? Maybe Beilschmidt was a sucker.

“You’re lucky I’m even asking. I could have just shot you.” Beilschmidt leaned back in his chair, eyeing Alfred critically. He looked an awful lot like a stereotypical Marvel villain. If only Alfred was as heroic in this scenario.

“But you didn’t. Instead you hit me and made me drop my glasses.” Alfred rubbed his cheek ruefully. “It’s gonna bruise you know.”

“I had to get your attention somehow. Now, if you’d like to leave with just the bruise, you’ll start talking.”

“I have a better idea,” Alfred drawled, leaning forward and going for broke. “How about I keep your attention some other way?”

“Oh?” Beilschmidt raised an eyebrow. “And what might that be?”

Seeing as the man hadn’t decided to just shoot him and get it over with, Alfred leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “You sure you don’t know? And here I thought you were smart.”

Alfred wasn’t sure what he expected. A reaction, certainly. Maybe enough to make the man lower his defenses. Instead, Beilschmidt grabbed Alfred’s wrist and pulled sharply, causing Alfred to nearly fall into his lap. The man’s eyes bored into Alfred’s with a surprising intensity and involuntarily, Alfred flushed. Damn his cheeks, he really needed to learn how to control that reaction. Okay, so he hadn’t actually expected Beilschmidt to take him up on the offer. It would be a very, very dumb move on Beilschmidt’s part after all. But maybe Beilschmidt really hadn’t gotten any in a while.

After a moment, Beilschmidt let go of Alfred’s wrist and chuckled. “You couldn’t handle me, kid.”

Alfred huffed, feeling slightly insulted as he settled back into his chair. “I don’t think you could keep up.”

…maybe he was the one who hadn’t gotten any in a while. If he got out of this situation and back to Mattie, Alfred resolved to omit this part of the encounter when talking to his brother.

“Did your boss tell you what’s in the safe?” Beilschmidt looked much more pleased with himself than he had a moment ago. Damn it, Alfred had lost his edge.

“Maybe I work alone. Have you considered that?”

“Hmm. Perhaps. Then how did you get the intel to come here? I keep a low profile for a reason, and I don’t particularly like surprises. Especially when they come in two.”

“In two?”

Beilschmidt’s smirk widened into a grin. “Your little blonde friend? The frail one with the violet eyes? You really think I’d be so foolish as to allow him to scurry off into the darkness for reinforcements?”

Alfred’s heart dropped.

Mattie.

“You fucker.” Alfred couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice, his eyes narrowing. Somehow, without him knowing, Alfred had stood to his feet. “I swear, if you lay a finger on him…”

Beilschmidt eyed him calmly, even as Alfred saw his fingers tighten on the gun. “Interesting. He must be something more than just a partner, for you to lose your cool. A lover maybe? Or family? Clearly something special.”

Special enough for Alfred to want to punch the smug smile off Beilschmidt’s face for sure. Alfred gritted his teeth as he sank back into his chair, mind racing. He should have kept his cards closer to his chest, not revealed how close he and Matthew were. Now Beilschmidt knew he had leverage, though how he had found Matthew's location, Alfred wasn't sure. “Go to hell, Beilschmidt.”

“Relax. He was knocked out, nothing more. Arthur is simply keeping an eye on him.” Beilschmidt shrugged, looking at Alfred with a critical eye. “You’re an interesting man, Herr Thief, to get worked up so easily.”

Arthur.

He hadn’t heard that name in years now, but the tension still loosened from Alfred’s shoulders. No matter what opinion Alfred might hold of Arthur Kirkland, he knew the man would never harm Matthew. Alfred leaned back in his chair, suddenly much more relaxed than before. Oh, Beilschmidt had no idea what information he'd just given up. “I’ll relax when I see him again. And how has Kirkland been?”

Beilschmidt paused, a small flash of surprise in his eyes. A brief moment of victory for Alfred, a reclamation of power, in a situation where Alfred was largely powerless. “You really are well informed. Too well informed. How do you know about us?”

“Like you said, there are eyes everywhere.” The mockery dripped out of Alfred’s voice as he parroted Beilschmidt’s words back to him. Alfred settled back in, the smugness returning to his demeanor. “So, are you and Kirkland partners or are you just fucking?"

Beilschmidt’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tone, you’re in no position to be snarky.”

Alfred ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Oh, on the contrary, I think I’m quite comfortable in saying what I want. It’s not like the outcome will change.”

There was a flippancy to Alfred’s words, and maybe more than a hint of malice. He couldn’t help it. Talking about Arthur always got Alfred riled up. One day, Alfred fantasized, he’d punch Arthur’s teeth out. Maybe Beilschmidt’s too, but at least Beilschmidt’s face was pretty.

“Oh, I don’t know. You could provide a decent argument for your continued survival.”

“I’m handsome, and it’s such a hassle to clean blood out of a carpet.” Alfred shrugged. “I’m not telling you anything. And I know Kirkland won’t hurt my partner, so I can’t say I’m particularly concerned.”

“And you think I won’t hurt you?” Beilschmidt frowned, and Alfred's gaze snapped back to the canvas bag next to him. “You underestimate the consequences of your actions. I cannot let you have what’s in that safe. Arthur may not be willing to hurt your friend, but I am not so soft-hearted.”

“Honestly?” Alfred raised an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think you’re going to hurt me. If you were, you would have done so already. But I’m sitting here in your study, just a few feet away from the one thing we both want, completely untied.”

“And completely unarmed,” Beilschmidt noted.

“Sure, that too. Arthur would be awfully pissed if you shot me though. Like you said, he’s so soft-hearted.” Soft-hearted Alfred’s ass. The pain of Arthur’s departure had never fully left Alfred, had burned into his skull and his every action since that day. Matthew often tried to talk him out of it, said that in letting Arthur’s leaving guide Alfred’s actions, he was letting their former guardian win. He was probably right, Alfred knew, but it didn’t change Alfred’s desire to beat the man to a pulp.

Beilschmidt was silent for a moment. “Why go to this trouble? Why put yourself and your loved one at risk?”

Alfred shrugged. “It’s the job. It’s what we do. What’s it to you? You’re not exactly in any moral high ground over here. I mean it pays well, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That safe is my life. If money’s what you’re after, I’m sure I can top your buyer.”

Alfred laughed. Surely Beilschmidt knew it wasn't just about the money. The man couldn't have worked his way up the food chain if he didn't realize what was at stake. “Oh, if it were that simple. You’d cost me my reputation. Maybe even my job entirely.” Maybe more, honestly. Alfred wasn't sure what the consequences would be for failure in this case (it had, after all, been a long shot to intercept the files here), but they wouldn't be pretty.

“Better than your life, Herr Jones. Or that of your brother. I’m telling you, walk away.”

Alfred paused at the sound of his name. For the first time, he noticed a small black earpiece in Beilschmidt’s ear. Goddamn it. “Arthur’s feeding you all this info, huh.” That traitor.

Beilschmidt tapped his earpiece. “He’s not happy to see you here.”

“Relay this message to him, will you?” Alfred cleared his throat. “Fuck you.”

“That’s awful harsh. He’s just trying to protect you and Matthew. You’re in over your head.”

“Maybe he should’ve considered that before he abandoned us all those years ago.” Alfred stood to his feet. This conversation had gone on long enough. “Anyways, if you’re not planning on shooting me, I’ll be on my way now.”

Beilschmidt lifted his gun again and Alfred gritted his teeth. He knew there was no way he was going to get his own gun back, but it still stung. RIP Bertha 2014-2016. “I can’t let you go, Al. Not until I know you won’t be back for this safe or its contents.”

“It’s not like you leave it alone enough for me to come take it,” Alfred said sourly. “And it’s Alfred to you. Or Jones. Anyways, I’m leaving. Don’t bother sending me an invitation to the wedding.”

“Not yet.” Beilschmidt stood to his feet as well. “I need your word, Alfred. Your word that you won’t take what’s here. Lives depend on this.”

Maybe Alfred’s life depended on it, but _that_ was hardly of concern to Beilschmidt. Still, Alfred had to grudgingly admit he’d been beaten. “Fine. As long as Matthew’s safe, I’ll walk away.”

“Sehr gut. Here.” Beilschmidt tossed the canvas messenger bag from earlier at Alfred. He caught the bag in surprise. “It won’t cover everything.”

Alfred opened the bag. Cash. Not enough, certainly not the bounty that he and Matthew had been promised for the job. But maybe they could get by, at least long enough for the anger to die down and their failure to be forgiven. Alfred grimaced slightly as he zipped the bag back up and slung it over his shoulder. He was definitely not looking forward to dealing with this whole mess for the next few months. “How generous. Where’s my brother?”

“Matthew’s in the guest house by the entrance. Arthur will be gone by the time you get there.” Beilschmidt hesitated. “For what it’s worth, I think what he did to you was despicable. And to answer your question from before, Arthur and I aren’t together.”

What a strange detail to include. It wasn't as if Alfred actually cared who Arthur was fucking. Only that the comment set Beilschmidt off. Alfred didn’t pay much attention to it though, itching to leave the house as soon as he could. “I don’t need your pity. And I don’t really care what you or Arthur do with your lives. Bye.”

“Be safe, Herr Thief. And be careful. Others in the Syndicate don’t forgive intruders so easily.”

Despite himself, Alfred tossed one last flirtatious wink at Beilschmidt. “You know what they say. Live fast, die young, leave a pretty corpse. I’ve already got two of those covered.”

Beilschmidt sighed and set down his gun. “Have a pleasant evening, Al. Thanks for dropping by.”

Alfred felt a little irked at the nickname but decided to let it slide. “You really should wait until I leave before setting that down you know. Terrible security you’ve got around here.”

“You won’t kill me. I have no need for it.”

“Famous last words.” And with that, Alfred gave a jaunty wave before finally exiting the study and hurrying out of Beilschmidt’s house.

What a strange day this had proven to be.


	2. Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred really needs to stop getting jumped by Gilbert Beilschmidt. And not the fun kind either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alfred and Gilbert are both drama queens.

Alfred really should’ve let sleeping dogs lie.

As Matthew would say, it was his damn ego’s fault as usual. Alfred hadn’t been particularly pleased about being bested by Gilbert Beilschmidt. He had gone on and on about it to Matthew even as the two of them were still hiding away and laying low over the fallout of their failure to secure the files. On multiple occasions, Matthew had asked if Alfred would just please shut up about the damn mission, that it was hard enough dealing with their failure without Alfred complaining about it every ten minutes. That had resulted in a rather nasty argument about who was more to blame for not realizing Beilschmidt and Arthur were working together and a very healthy reminder for Alfred that just because his brother was on the quieter side did not mean Matthew couldn’t tear Alfred apart with his words. Alfred had eventually apologized and dropped the subject, saying that they were both at fault for what happened and promising that they would take fewer risks in the future.

Of course, that stipulation only applied to when Alfred and Matthew worked together.

A few weeks back, Alfred had broken into Beilschmidt’s house again. He’d finally figured out what had happened. Apparently, besides the numerous security cameras that the man had, there was a robotic cat detached from the rest of the security system that monitored the study. It sat on the shelf next to the safe and when Alfred had broken in last time, it had detected movement and alerted both Beilschmidt and Arthur to his intrusion.

Fueled mostly by pettiness, Alfred had designed a new computer program specifically for the damn cat. After the files had been transferred away, it seemed Beilschmidt was more willing to leave the house, giving Alfred the perfect opportunity to drop in. Sneaking in while Beilschmidt was in the shower had been fun in its own right, but Alfred really preferred not to have another gun pointed at him.

That had backfired spectacularly, seeing as Alfred was, once again, tied to a damn chair in an undisclosed room with a _fuming_ Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Alfred really thought the anger was unwarranted. It wasn’t as if Alfred had stolen anything this time. All he’d done was leave a fun message in the cat’s mouth to let Beilschmidt know he had visited and that his security still sucked. It was courteous, really. And okay, maybe he’d snooped through the man’s personal files for fun, but it wasn’t as if he’d taken any information! It wasn’t like there was much there anyways. No ex-lovers, no strange fantasies (that Alfred had evidence of; he was still convinced that wasn’t true), no good blackmail material. A bit sad, really.

(Alfred chose not to reflect on how his own lifestyle might look in a break-in.)

Alfred smiled at Beilschmidt. “We really gotta stop meeting like this.”

“No, you need to stop breaking into my house,” Beilschmidt said, an angry crease between his eyebrows. Alfred wondered if the man was a natural albino. It seemed likely, considering that even his eyebrows were a pale white. Or maybe Beilschmidt was just very dedicated to his image. “Clearly your promises mean nothing.”

“I liked you better naked,” Alfred remarked absently. “And all I promised was that I wouldn’t come back for the files. You handed those off months ago. Think of this as a friendly visit and test of your security capabilities. Really, you should be thanking me. Can’t get this kind of professional security check without shelling out. I even left you a note.”

Beilschmidt glowered at him. Maybe Alfred should shut up for once. Matthew had always said his mouth would get him killed someday.

“How about you untie this rope?” Alfred suggested. “Clearly, you’ve disarmed me—and again, taken my favorite gun—so why don’t you let me stretch my legs a little? It worked out pretty well last time.”

“On one condition.” Beilschmidt slid a piece of paper over the table. “Sign this contract.”

Alfred’s brow furrowed in confusion. “A contract?”

“Yes. It states that you will, under no circumstances, ever break into my house again, or so help me god I will cut off your hand.”

Alfred winced a bit at that image. “You must be kidding. You seriously want me to sign a contract? You know that’s not legally binding, right?”

“I am not joking.” Beilschmidt reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a pen. “Sign the contract or I’ll shoot you right now. You will uphold it.”

“What’s the point of me signing a contract?” Alfred asked instead. “It’s not like a court will accept this if you’re trying to justify cutting off my hands.”

“It’s symbolic, you moron.”

“I’m not the one who got their house broken into twice,” Alfred said.

“Yet you’re the one who’s had their life threatened twice. Now sign.”

Alfred sighed. Beilschmidt was so dramatic. “Untie me then.”

Beilschmidt got up and undid Alfred’s bonds. Alfred stretched briefly before picking up the pen and twirling it in his fingers. “I can’t believe you actually went to the trouble of chasing me down. Don’t you have better things to do with your time?”

“I have minions for that. You made it past my security twice, I can’t let that slide.”

Alfred chuckled. “Minions. How high up are you anyways? I never seem to get a straight answer on that one…”

Beilschmidt rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to tell you that. I’m not a Bond villain.”

“Obviously not. You’re too good looking for that. Minimum one ugly facial scar to qualify.” Alfred gave Beilschmidt a meaningful look. The suit did after all do wonders for Beilschmidt’s figure, clearly tailored specifically for him. Alfred really should’ve just robbed him of money instead; the man was obviously rolling in it.

Beilschmidt gave a short laugh at that. “Flattery won’t save you, Al.”

Alfred shrugged. “Hey, I’m just saying, it’s the truth. Besides, nothing will save me at this point. Why hold back?”

Beilschmidt grinned. “You know what, Alfred? I’m really starting to like you.”

Alfred snorted as he reached for the contract. He glanced at it quickly; no matter how entirely preposterous the whole situation was, Alfred wouldn't sign something he hadn't read. Mattie had beaten that into his head enough. The contract actually looked surprisingly official. Minus the whole 'cutting off your hands' portion, of course. “You must be awful lonely if you like the guy who keeps trying to rob you.” Alfred signed off the sheet of paper with a flourish before handing it back to Beilschmidt. “There you go. I hope you know your life’s about to be a lot more boring without me barging in every now and then.”

“You know what, it probably will,” Beilschmidt said with a chuckle.

Alfred stood and gave Beilschmidt a wink. “Good doing business with you as always.” He paused, the question tumbling out of his mouth before he could hold it back. “How’s Kirkland?”

Beilschmidt’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just because I hate the man doesn’t mean I want him dead.” Alfred shrugged, trying to play his comment off as nonchalant. Although Alfred was sure that at this point Arthur had already informed Beilschmidt of his former guardianship of Alfred and Matthew, Alfred didn't want to give the man any more information than necessary. “But whatever, I’ll just go.”

Beilschmidt stared at him for a long moment, and Alfred grew increasingly uncomfortable. He was just about to turn on his heel when Beilschmidt spoke. “You are so strange. Arthur is doing fine.”

Alfred refused to smile at that, but he did feel a slight sense of relief. “Good. Do me a favor and don’t tell him I asked about him.”

“Like I would.” Beilschmidt stood up and tucked the contract into his suit pocket. “He’s much more manageable this way.”

Alfred couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips with that. “Oh, I’m sure he would hate you for saying that.”

Beilschmidt shrugged. “Let’s face it, I’m not one of his favorite people to begin with.”

Now that comment gave Alfred pause. He had never fully figured out Beilschmidt’s relationship with Arthur. They were, supposedly, not lovers, and it sounded like Beilschmidt wasn’t particularly fond of the man as a friend either. At the same time, they sounded closer than just unwilling partners in crime. Strange. “You mean your overwhelming charm hasn’t made him completely fall in love with you yet?”

Beilschmidt laughed. “A prick like him? Fall in love? He’s much too prideful for that.”

 _Something you two have in common_ , Matthew would say if he were here. Alfred pushed the thoughts of his brother away for the moment. “Oh, you never know. Then again, you’re probably more familiar with his escapades now than I am.” Then, because Alfred couldn’t resist prying a bit more into Beilschmidt’s life: “And how about you? I’ve never seen a girl or guy at your place. No pictures either.”

Beilschmidt raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you had time to dig into my personal life, did you? I have plenty of pictures.”

Alfred thought of the family photos in Beilschmidt's photo album, and the many random dogs. “Yes, well, there wasn’t much of a personal life to go through. Just family pictures and a bunch of dogs. Hardly exciting information.”

“Sorry I failed to keep you entertained. I’m perfectly happy with my life, thank you.”

Alfred shrugged. “You keep telling yourself that, Gilbert, and maybe one day it’ll be true.”

Beilschmidt blinked in surprise, and Alfred realized that he had actually called the man by his first name for once. Oops. That was a bit too familiar. “Can I have my gun back?” Alfred asked, hoping to distract the man.

“No.”

“Alright then,” Alfred said brightly. “Thanks for not cutting off my hand, I’ll be on my way now.”

Alfred turned and was almost at the door when Beilschmidt called after him. “Stay out of my place and take care of yourself, little mouse!”

Alfred paused before turning around and making a face at Beilschmidt. “Little mouse? What in the world are you referring to?”

Beilschmidt smirked at him, which only stoked Alfred’s ire. “You have a poor memory. Don’t you remember our last meeting when I caught you scurrying around my house?”

“Yes, you knocked my glasses off, tied me to a chair, and didn’t get me a drink. How the hell does that make me a little mouse?”

Alfred wasn’t entirely sure what happened, because the next thing he knew, Beilschmidt’s lips were on his. Alfred froze in surprise, unsure how to respond before Beilschmidt released him with a playful wink. “Don’t worry about it, little mouse. I’ll see you around.”

Alfred flushed slightly. Part of him wanted to touch his lips, as if trying to confirm that Beilschmidt really had kissed him. It had been so brief that Alfred didn't get a good chance to actually revel in the action. That seemed a bit too desperate though, and Alfred was nothing if not prideful. “Oh, that is so unfair. What was the point of me signing that contract then?”

Beilschmidt blinked. “What do you mean? I’m not taking your hand.”

Alfred pouted. “When are you going to see me around if I’m not breaking into your house?”

“It’s a saying, little mouse.” Oh, right. Alfred was reading too much into this. He really didn’t get laid enough. Beilschmidt eyed him thoughtfully, as if considering something new. “Do you want to see me again?”

Yes. No. That would be too much. Alfred just wanted to have some fun. Maybe test out if Beilschmidt's hair was as spiky as it looked. That was it. God, he was a mess. Matthew was going to kill him when he found out what Alfred had done this time. Alfred opted for a shrug. “You make life less boring for me too. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“I guess so.” There was a hint of a smile on Beilschmidt’s lips.

“Don’t get yourself killed before then, Beilschmidt.” Back to last names, much better. Alfred winked. “Or robbed.”

“Please. Like anyone could.”

“I did.” Alfred snuck a quick kiss then before rocking back on his heels, looking pleased at the surprise on Beilschmidt’s face. There. Now they were even. Alfred hated losing. “Or well, the latter at least. Not as interested in the first part.”

Beilschmidt was turning a lovely shade of red. Alfred’s grin grew wider. “Yes, well, you’re not exactly a normal guy.”

“Aw, he blushes,” Alfred teased. “How cute. And you’re not particularly normal yourself, so it works out.”

Beilschmidt leaned back with a laugh. “Enjoy it, little mouse. I don’t blush for just anyone.”

Alfred grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m very well aware of how special I am, and I’m glad you are too.”

“One should never sell greatness short.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment?”

“Just a fact.”

Alfred preened a little at that. “As it should be,” he said, leaning close to Beilschmidt for the last time. “Till next time, Beilschmidt.”

Beilschmidt’s arm suddenly snaked out and pulled Alfred in close, just enough to kiss. “Until next time, Herr Jones,” Beilschmidt said, licking his lips.

This time, Alfred blushed. Damn it, he’d been one-upped again. Should he kiss Beilschmidt back to even it out? …No, then he just wouldn’t end up leaving. Better to make his exit now, leave the man wanting more. With a cheerful salute, he made a hasty retreat.

As he exited the building (a mostly abandoned apartment complex, how fun), Alfred realized he had no idea where he was. He really shouldn’t have let Beilschmidt get the drop on him.

Oh, Matthew was going to kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got like, four chapters of this written? So I guess it'll at least be that long. Not sure how much I want to continue on it, to be honest, but figured I should publish it somewhere.


End file.
